No Rhyme, No Reason
by Demelza
Summary: Ch 2 up: They think their relationship's one for good, they've been through so much, but has the Illuminati gone too far in keeping them apart?
1. The Streets Are All Vacant

Gargoyles belongs to Disney/Buena Vista, and are used here without permission. Sorry. All new characters belong to me, and may be used anywhere you so desire.

All feedback is greatly appreciated, whether good or bad. Theme song for this short story is 'God in His Culture' by Anika Moa. 

**'No Rhyme, No Reason'**_  
The Streets are all Vacant_  


by Quantara  
quantara@nzoomail.com

You stand at the opposite side of the road from where I am, I see the sadness on your face and I'm brought to wonder why I was taken from this world. Why they took me. Why they thought I was expendable in their battle to keep the Gargoyles under their control. Pain washes over me, though not like the pain I once knew, this time a greater pain as I watch your face contort in suffering as the images of my brutal murder flash before your eyes. At each point of pain you feel, so my heart breaks that little bit more. I wish I were there with you so I could stop this cruel and relentless world from dragging you down to its living hell.

Tears flood your eyes and I am pained that I cannot wipe them from your cheek as all I am now is a life force without any form. It is everything their hunger for power has driven me to become. Those who wanted me out of the picture.

My spirit is fading more with every bit of heartbreak that comes over you. A flash of lightning fills the heavens above and I look toward the sky. 'Please, not now,' I beg in silence, and I turn back to you. You're still standing there, arms wrapped around you and I know the longer I stay the harder it becomes.

Not just for you, but also for me.

Every part of me wishes I didn't have to leave, I keep thinking that I'm not gone. That I'll wake up and this will all be a nightmare fading to the back of my mind as I continue about my day.

But it's not a dream.

It's real, like you are. Like I once was.

Suddenly, I'm standing at the front of the elevator at the construction site we'd gone to earlier this afternoon, our last case we would ever work together. I see you. I see my hand gently squeezing yours as I see the fear that has come over you. You hate heights, but you seem to find enough courage in yourself to look up, and give me a thankful smile in return. Suddenly, the elevator has stopped and the old man with us in the elevator opens the gate and steps out. He doesn't wait for us as we follow him over to where the man we're here to question is working.

My stomach churns, as I know what's to come next. We step around the concrete wall, and are instantly faced with a gruesome murder. The old man is shaking and you slip your arm around him, leading him away from the scene. I watch myself as I stay behind to make the appropriate calls. It's all too clear, I remember every word of my call to 9-1-1.

Soon I'm standing behind you, I can't bear to look at the grim sight any longer, and the old man cries to you how the young man we just found pinned against the wall is his grandson, that he didn't know why anyone would want to kill him. 'It's hard,' you tell him, 'but we'll find the guy that did this to your grandson,' you promise. And I know that tone of voice, I know you meant every word you told him.

Everything seems to twist around me again, this time we're both leaning up against the wall, you tell me how the old man is down at the precinct with the homicide counselor. My heart aches as I see the pain in your face, a grave knowing where I wish you'd told me about the fear you held inside, the fear that there's worse to come. A foreshadowing.

Captain Chavez is here now, she's telling us to go on home, and we head back to the elevator. You step against the back as I close the gate, then hit the ground button. Your arms are wrapped around you, and I knew this was affecting you pretty badly, so I instinctively put my arm around your shoulder. I remember the fear I held in my mind, the fear that you'd push me away, that you wanted to be left alone, but you step right up to me and wrap your arms around my waist and I hug you as you begin to sob. 'Hey, it's going to be okay...' I hear myself try to assure you, but it only makes you cry harder.

I begun gently rubbing your back, and soon we were at ground level, the gate is opened from the other side and we both see Margo Tatopoulos standing there, one of the senior commanding officers of our precinct. She glares at us, and I watch as we walk away from her, back over the gangway, the way we'd come earlier. But I stay, a grave feeling flooding over me and I watch as she removes her cell phone from her inside jacket pocket. 'Yeah, it's Margo...it's time...' she says into the phone, I don't know what it is she's talking about, or who she's talking to, but from the gleam in her eyes I know it's something bad.

That final day fades from my mind and I find myself back on the road, looking up from the blood stained pavement. My blood. The words flash in my mind like a terror and my gaze falls upon you, you're staring directly at me, only I know you can't see me.

As the world spins all over again, I realize we're back to the moment when it all happened. When my world stopped co-existing with yours.

Sadness floods over me again, like a continuous stab of guilt, and I'm watching as we leave the restaurant, no sooner than we'd arrived. You see it too, a memory being played back, and I remember now, how you told me you weren't feeling very well, how you'd been feeling nauseous since the elevator ride earlier tonight.

We hadn't even walked a few meters away from the restaurant when we saw a man crouched over on the middle of the road, holding his stomach as he let out groan after groan in pain. The exchange of words between us was nothing more than a 'Be careful' from you as I begun walking over to him. I didn't realize it in that moment, but you knew in your heart that something wasn't right. I hear the silent prayer you pray in your mind. Had I heard, as I used to be, I would never have gone over.

I'm closer now; I'm standing behind the man, watching myself approach him. He sneers at me to back off if I want to live to see another day. I freeze in my steps, not at his words, but at the gun he's holding and pointing up at my chest, I know you can't see the weapon, but the words in your mind fill mine and I know in that split moment you knew something wasn't right. Even before now.

Trying to be calm about the situation, I hear myself tell him I'm a cop, that we're both cops and he doesn't want to be doing this. But it's all too late when a loud clatter fills the air, followed by the god-awful metallic smell and taste.

It's blood.

It's my blood.

I watch as I stare at the man where I stood, I can't find it in myself to believe he shot me, and in an instant moment I feel your hand on my arm, you're telling me everything's going to be okay. 'I don't feel anything, I'm okay,' I tell you, my voice unbelievably calm, but the blood is in my throat. I know I've been shot. Still there's no pain and I slowly turn to look at your beautiful face. It's the last time with my own eyes and in my own body that I'll ever be this close to you again, looking into your warm and soulful chocolate brown eyes.

'I love you,' I whisper to you, the final three words I'd ever utter as I suddenly begin falling backward. But the feeling never ceases, I'm filled with a constant feeling like I'm falling. I don't even feel the stop as I hit the pavement. Instead, I find myself standing here, looking down at my lifeless body with you cradling my head in your lap, screaming at me to not leave you. Screaming at me with every part of your heart to open my eyes.

But the words fall on dead ears.

My dead ears.

Another loud bang, and the world twists around me again, the man who killed me has taken his own life and is standing at my side now. He gives me a sorrowful look and says he never meant to kill me, he didn't even know how he got the gun or why he pulled the trigger. His eyes give way to the fear he's feeling and I nod, because in that moment I know his every darkest and deepest memory. He was brainwashed by the Illuminati. They're the ones that ordered my death. He doesn't know why though, he was never told. He gives me another sad look as he starts to fade away, and I feel that great pain all over again, and I'm left to turn back to where you were, holding me in your arms.

Only you're not here now, and neither am I.

I'm surrounded by complete blackness, I think for a moment that I'm here alone, but I hear your soft cries, the way your voice is shaking as you whisper my name.

The darkness changes and we're at the beach in the dead of night.

I glance around me, trying to remember this place from any number of childhood memories, but nothing. You're here too, standing ahead of me with your arms wrapped around yourself as you stand with your feet almost completely buried in the surprisingly warm sand beneath us. You're dressed in your favorite red evening dress, and I slowly take a step toward you. Though not as I am, but in the form of what I once was. I slip my arms around your waist as I step up behind you, wanting to comfort you in this time when you need me the most.

Even above the rushing sound of the ocean as it ebbs to and throw, I can hear your crying voice whisper my name again. You run your hand along my arm, before reaching up and gently placing your hand at the back of my head, bringing my face forward so our cheeks are pressed together. Both our eyes close in union, and the tears flow freely down your face.

'I miss you...' you whisper, holding your left hand over mine, squeezing it tightly, as if wanting to hold on to me forever, not wanting me to ever go.

But that's when I see myself disappear from behind you, and you're left standing there alone.

Arms wound around you.

Broken.

The world that once felt like home starts to crumble around you and I glance up at the sky once more. It's time now. I have to leave you. I wish I could stay, but I can't. Your soft crying fills my ears again and I lower my gaze from the sky and look over at you, you seem so far away now, but I have to say goodbye. Say it in the right way.

I start walking toward you, a continuous journey that seems to take forever, but when I finally reach you I place my hand on your shoulder and you turn to me. Tears flood your eyes again and I gently brush them from your cheek as the first one starts to roll from your left eye.

'I'm sorry, I never meant to make you cry...' I whisper, but you shake your head, your hand softly touching mine and you smile so warmly.

'I love you, Matt...' you cry.

And so quickly it fades.

Not a thought.

Nothing but complete darkness.


	2. No Sunshine in the Rain

Gargoyles belongs to Disney/Buena Vista, and are used here without permission.  Sorry.  All new characters belong to me, and may be used anywhere you so desire.

This story is PRO for the relationship of Elisa and Matt.  All feedback is greatly appreciated, but please do not flame, as I did warn you not to read this story if you aren't comfortable with pro-Elisa and Matt stories. Thank ya kindly :)

Directly continued from 'Streets are all Vacant'...actually, maybe it's the same story?  Hmm, thought to think...

**'No Rhyme, No Reason'**_  
No Sunshine in the Rain_   
  


by Quantara  
quantara@nzoomail.com

**September 9th 1995  
****5:33pm****  
Two days before**

Elisa's Fairlane pulled to a stop up between two dark blue GMC's.  She and her partner, Matt, exchanged looks before they both climbed out of her car and headed into the make-shift office built out of a large, dark green shipping container.  The white door of the office was at least halfway open as they approached the entrance, when a burly older woman came storming out, pushing between the duo, muttering and cursing under her breath as she went by.

"Wonder what her problem is," Matt thought aloud, glancing over at his partner with his left eyebrow raised in curiosity.  Elisa shot him a look back, wishing she knew, too.

They both went inside and found a gentleman of about sixty odd years, sitting in a swivel chair behind the front desk of the small office.  "Damned machines," he mumbled, shaking his fist at the computer monitor in front of him, and that's when Matt cleared his throat to get the man's attention.  The older man quickly looked up at both officers, "Who the hell are you?" he snarled.

"Detective's Bluestone and Maza from the Twenty-third," Matt quickly replied.  He showed the man his badge, simultaneously motioning with his thumb in Elisa's direction where she stood at his left side.

The man rolled his eyes.  "Just great.  What the hell do you want?" he asked, his left eye squinting as he looked up at them both.

Elisa looked up at Matt, who was looking back at her.  She turned to the man.  "We're here to talk to Jimmy Levant," she replied.

"Jimmy, huh?"

"Mr..." Matt begun, pausing as he looked back at the man.

"Ritcher, Leonard Ritcher," he replied, sighing angrily.

"Mr Ritcher, we really need to talk to him, it's a matter of urgency."

Letting out a groan, Mr Ritcher rose from his chair and motioned for the detectives to follow him out the door opposite the one they had entered in moments ago.  He led them to a stainless steel shelving unit that had a door with a netting front.  He pulled the door open, removing three hard hats, one for himself, and one for each of the officer's.  He turned to them, handing them both their hard hats.  "Might pay to remove the jackets and any other loose clothing," he faintly spoke, motioning to another shelf.  This time one with hooks attached on the front door of it.  He impatiently waited, sighing angrily as Elisa removed her jacket and while Matt slipped out of his fawn overcoat and removed his tie, stuffing it in his right pant pocket after hanging his overcoat next to Elisa's jacket.

"This way..." Ritcher then begun, leading them up a set of six wooden steps with metal rungs up high enough on both sides as a railing, which led to a six meter gangway that took them directly to the construction site.

There was, on a rough count, about seven men working on the ground level, each wearing the appropriate protective gear, Matt mentally noted.  His attention, however, quickly being diverted when he felt Elisa's hand hooking onto his wrist and pull him the way he was meant to be going.  Giving her an apologetic look, they followed Ritcher to the elevator where they stepped inside, walking to the back of the small elevator as he pushed the button marked '14'.  'How Do I Deal' by Jennifer Love Hewitt was playing on the radio from the speaker above them and Elisa inwardly cursed.

She hated heights.  In fact she cursed their very existence, not to mention the existence of elevators that merely had mesh walls that were very see through.  It was all like a bad dream come true, her stomach churned as they started ascending, the elevator creaking and shaking.  The buildings were shrinking the higher they rose, and her hand automatically reached for the bar behind her and Matt, gripping tighter the more her stomach twisted.  'We're going to be okay, we're going to be okay...' she kept repeating over and over in her head.  Her eyes closed as they came to the fifth level beneath the one they were going to, but they just as quickly shot open when she felt Matt's hand on top of hers.  He gently caressed her hand as he took hers in his, a soft, reassuring smile on his lips to let her know she was going to be fine.  She let out a soft sigh, looking back up at him with a thankful smile in return.

The elevator came to a jolting stop and Ritcher quickly opened the gate and stepped out of the elevator.  He didn't even wait as the two of them exited the elevator and started to follow him across the far side of the large concrete floor beneath them.  They walked around a concrete block wall, where the three of them came to a sudden stop.

"Oh my god," Elisa gasped, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.  There was blood everywhere on the ground, and pinned against the wall with a concrete pylon through his stomach was Jimmy Levant, part of his guts hanging out this side of him where the officers and Ritcher stood.

"J-Jimmy..." Ritcher stammered, turning to the officers in shock, his face deathly white.  He shook his head, tears flooding his eyes.

"Come on..." Elisa began, putting her arm around the older man's shoulder, leading him away from the sight.

*  *  *

"Ritcher okay?"  Matt asked, walking over to Elisa where she stood leaning up against one of the concrete pylons that held the floor above them up.  She was as pale as Ritcher had been when he saw his, as they found out, grandson rammed up against the wall, horrifically murdered.

She swallowed hard, eyes glancing over to the wall where homicide now had five of their men trying to determine exactly what happened.  Her entire body shaking, she turned back to Matt, eyes full of fear.  "Yeah...he's in shock, homicide has one of their counselors talking to him down at the station," she replied, her voice fading as images of what they had just seen came flashing back in her mind.

"What about you?" Came Matt's quiet voice, standing so that he was right beside her now, leaning up against the pylon too.  "How are you holding up?"

Shrugging, she looked up at him, "I'm good."

"You sure?"

She smiled faintly, nodding, "Yeah. I'm fine," she told him, forcing a stronger smile, but it only made her feel that much worse, and her gaze soon fell to the ground.  She swallowed hard, shrugging slightly again, "I just...never expected...that..."

"I know, partner...me either..."

She looked up at him again, "You don't seem so phased by it."

"When I was in the bureau, my first few years Hacker and I worked a lot of cases like this...you never get used to it, but, after a while you start to not let it affect you so much," he said, letting out a breath.

"Detectives..." a woman said to their right, and both officers turned to see Captain Chavez standing there.  They both pushed themselves away from the pylon, looking back at her as she walked over to them.  "Has homicide questioned you both yet?"

They both nodded, "Yeah, a little while back," Matt informed her.

She nodded, "Good.  Why don't you both go home, call it a night."

"Can't we stay and help out?" Elisa asked, though realizing how silly it sounded once the words left her mouth.  "We did arrive on scene first," she added, hoping to make what she said that bit better, but it didn't work and she mentally kicked herself.

"Sorry detectives, this is a case for homicide.  I'll see you tomorrow night," she told them both, not leaving them any time for argument as she walked off, headed over to the crime scene.

There was a long silence, when Elisa looked up at Matt, "Guess that means we have to go home then..." she said, her voice quiet still.

"Yeah...listen, it's only half past six now, care to get some dinner?" Matt offered, fully ready to expect her to turn him down when she slowly nodded her acceptance of the offer.

Nothing else was said as they headed back over to the elevator and waited for it to come back up from one of the lower levels.  As it came up, Matt opened the gate and they both stepped inside.  He closed the gate, and hit the ground button, stepping to the back of the elevator beside Elisa.  She had her arms wrapped around her, staring down at the ground, and he worriedly looked at her.  In the two years they'd been working together, he never once ever saw her as upset as she was right now.  There was a fear in her eyes that pained him and he instinctively put his arm around her shoulder, though half expecting her to pull away, when she turned to him and pressed her face up against his chest, sobbing.  "Hey, it's going to be okay..." he tried to soothe, but she only sobbed harder.

The descent in the elevator seemed to take forever, with Elisa's crying only slowly calming down, though she didn't saying anything. And Matt didn't either, he just held her in his arms, gently rubbing her back and placing a kiss against the top of her head just as the elevator came to a stop.  They stayed like that for a long moment, both their eyes closed.  There together, alone in that moment with the world frozen in time around them, but it all ended when the elevator gate opened.

Elisa quickly pulled away from Matt, seeing the senior commanding officer of their precinct, Margo Tatopoulos, standing there.  She frowned as she watched them step out of the elevator.  If there was one thing the woman didn't tolerate, it was Officers showing emotion or any kind of affection on the job, and if the steel cold glare they received was anything to go by, they could expect to be reprimanded within the next few days.  Slowly, they headed back along the gangway.

*  *  *

The dark skies had since dawned on the city skies as Elisa and Matt made their way to the front door of Latino's, an Italian Restaurant they both held a growing fondness for.  They hadn't spoken at all in the ride to the restaurant, not even as they climbed out of the car and headed for the front door, until Elisa reached out and grabbed Matt by the hand just as he went to reach for the handle.  He turned to her and she took them aside, away from the door so they weren't in the way of the incoming and outgoing patrons to the restaurant.

"You okay?" he asked tenderly, causing her to swallow hard.

Saying nothing, Elisa closed the gap between them, reached up on the tips of her toes, her hands gripping the front of his overcoat, she pulled him closer to her and pressed her lips to his.  The kiss lasted for only a few seconds, when she stepped back, her eyes still closed for a lingering moment before they slowly opened and she looked up at him.  "Can we...just go home?" she gently asked in a soft voice.

Matt nodded, his hand touching the side of her face, "Anything you want..." he assured her.

They exchanged another tender embrace, and soon they were walking away from the restaurant, their arms around one another.

Across in the middle of the road, Elisa caught glimpse of a man crouched over.  "Is he okay?" she asked aloud subconsciously, before glancing up at Matt.

"I don't know," he replied, his eyes on the man.  "I'll go check..." he said, walking toward the man.

"Be careful," she pleaded with Matt, her heart starting to race in her chest as she watched him cross over to the man.  Something didn't feel right, so she prayed a silent prayer of safety in her mind.

Matt was only a few feet away from the man now.  "Back off if you want to live to see another day!" the man sneered, green eyes full of fury and Matt quickly froze.  Not at his words.  But at the gun the man has pointed up at him.

"Come on pal, I'm a cop, we're both cops...you don't want to be doing this..." Matt tried to reason with him, but it all came too late when a loud clatter filled the air.  He stood there, frozen, looking down at the man, when suddenly he felt Elisa's hand on his arm.  "I don't feel anything...I'm okay..." he said, his voice unbelievably calm, when he slowly turned to look at her, not knowing in that moment that this would be the last time he would ever be this close to her, to the woman he loved.  The last time he would ever look into those beautiful, warm, chocolate brown eyes of hers.  "I love you..." he whispered, about to reach his hand up to touch her face one last time, when his eyes rolled backwards and he fell to the ground.

It all seemed like it was playing in slow motion as Elisa dropped to his side and quickly cradled his head in her lap.  "God, no, Matt, don't leave me!!" she screamed, her voice full of pain, the tears streaming down her face without pattern.   "Open your eyes! please, God, open your eyes for me, please!!"

Another loud bang and Elisa's eyes shot to the lifeless body of her lover's killer.  He'd taken his own life.  Tears came uncontrollably as she sobbed over Matt's body, holding his head close to her as she began wailing, begging him to come back to her.

to be continued in 'cannot have'


End file.
